


An Affair of Convenience

by gallifreyslostson



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyslostson/pseuds/gallifreyslostson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rose panics and says she’ll be bringing her boyfriend to her cousin’s engagement party, her friend Lucie saves the day by getting an old friend to play the part.  What was supposed to be a one-time gig soon turns into a standing arrangement between them, until it gets difficult to tell exactly where the line between the ruse and reality lies.  Beta’d by the indefatigable aeonish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/gifts).



“Please remind me why I’m awake at this ungodly hour on my day off,” Jonathan complained, promptly yawning to illustrate his point.

“Oh, shush,” Lucie said, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over the chair across from him.  “If it weren’t for me, you’d never leave the house.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, “because I’d be sleeping.  Lucie, I shut my eyes for about six minutes last night after a forty-eight hour shift.  What is this about?”

“Maybe you should drink some more tea first,” she said as she settled into her seat and eyed him.

He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Lucie.”

“Alright, it’s like this.  I’ve got this friend, see,” Lucie said, and Jonathan groaned loudly before crossing his arms on the table and let his exhausted head fall onto them.  "No, shut up, listen: I’ve got this friend, and she’s got to go to this big family to do, and all her married cousins are gonna be there, and so’s her ex–don’t ask–but the point is, she’s going to be in the spotlight if she hasn’t got someone on her arm to distract them all.“

Jonathan raised his head and stared at his friend in disbelief.  "You’re asking me to go to a party with a woman I’ve never met, pretending to be her boyfriend so that her family–and ex, which I absolutely will be asking about at some point–won’t ambush her.”

“That’s about the gist, yep,” Lucie replied with a grin.  Jonathan sighed, reaching for his tea again and wishing he could just mainline the caffeine.  "Oh, and one more thing, the party’s tonight, and she’s just walked in the door, so you don’t have time to think up any lame excuses to get out of meeting a nice girl and actually having fun for once in your life.“

Jonathan choked on his tea as another _extremely_ pretty blonde approached the table and smiled at him nervously.

"Hi, Rose Tyler,” she said and offered her hand, golden brown eyes wide and sheepish as she looked up at him.  "Look, I’m sorry about this, if you don’t want–“

"Jonathan Shaw,” he said, shaking her hand and ignoring Lucie’s smirk.  "And it would appear that I’m to be your boyfriend this evening.“

Her entire body seemed to relax in relief as she let out a breath.  “Thank you so much.  It’s just, I dunno how it happened, but everyone’s gotten paired off but me,” she explained, taking the chair he pushed out with a foot as he leaned back in his seat.  “And now I feel like a leper or something.  And all the _pity_ , I mean, it’s like some syndrome that attacks people when they’ve found someone that makes them think anyone who’s single must just be miserable and crying into their wine and ice cream every night.”

“I’m aware of the phenomenon,” Jonathan replied, lips twitching.  “So, the ex.”

“Right,” she said, looking uncertain again and picking at her nails.  “Well, I’ve known him since I was born, and he hasn’t really got anyone else.  Mum sort of unofficially adopted him when his gran died, she does that, and the break up wasn’t all that bad, we  just sort of...drifted.”

“So he gets invited to family events,” he added, and she nodded, uncertainty giving way to misery.  “With a plus one.”

Rose nodded again.  “And by all accounts, she’s basically perfect.  Good personality, good family, good education--she’s a medical student, she’s going to be a doctor, for god’s sake.”

Jonathan flashed a look to Lucie, who immediately looked away and sipped at her tea with an air of exaggerated innocence.  He gave her a disgruntled hum, and she rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

“Look, it’s not as if she works at your hospital,” Lucie explained.  “I checked.”

“Thoughtful of you,” he replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Hold on, what?” Rose asked, looking between them in confusion.

Jonathan huffed, giving Lucie one last annoyed look before turning back to Rose.  “I’m a doctor.”

“What, really?” she asked in surprise.  “A proper one.”

“Credentials and all,” he assured her.  “Although I haven’t got them with me, I’m afraid.”

“No, I believe you,” she said, but then frowned.  “This is never gonna work.”

“Why not?” Lucie demanded.

“Oh, come on, Luc,” Rose groaned.  “Who’s gonna believe that a gorgeous doctor is interested in me?  No offence, Jonathan.”

“None taken, I assure you,” he said dryly, some smug part of him latching onto the word "gorgeous".  “But I think you’re wrong.”

"Of course she's wrong," Lucie said hotly.  "Rose, you're clever and funny, and not exactly bad on the eyes either.”

“Why, Lucie, I never knew you felt that way,” Rose teased, and Jonathan snorted at Lucie’s eyeroll.

“Shut it,” she snapped.  “Point is, there’s no one in the world that wouldn’t believe Jonathan or anyone else wouldn’t be interested in you, so instead of mouthing off, how about you two take some time to get your stories straight before your grand coming out.”

"What stories?" Rose asked.

"Of course," Jonathan said.  "This can't be our first date, everyone would spot the ruse immediately.  Practically screams desperate."

Rose gave him a brittle smile that made him wince.  "Does it?"

"Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you," Lucie put in.  "He's a charmer, but also really good at opening his mouth and inserting his foot."

"I'm doomed," Rose groaned, dropping her head on the table with a resounding thud.

“Nonsense,” Jonathan argued.  “It’s going to be fine.  Come on, sit up, please?  I’m sorry, that was thoughtless.”

“Oh, do you think?” Rose snapped, but she did raise her head.  He gave her an apologetic smile, and she twitched her lips in response.

“Six weeks,” Lucie said, and they blinked at each other before turning to her in unison.  “How long you’ve been dating.  Yeah, cause it’s not so long that it’d seem like you’re hiding him--or lying--but long enough that you might’n’t have said anything.  Didn’t want to jinx it, sort of thing.”

“Okay,” Rose said, nodding.  “Where’d we meet?  Coffee shop?”

Lucie snorted derisively.  “Too cliche.”

“Hospital cafeteria?” Jonathan suggested, but Lucie shook her head again.

“Too morbid.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Lucie,” Jonathan said, picking up his tea again.  “You’ve just ruled out the only two places I visit with any sort of regularity.”

“Which is why you haven’t met anyone,” Lucie informed him.  “No, let’s see...not a bar, her mum will assume you’re an alcoholic or a slut--”

“True,” Rose cut in with a nod.

“This is sounding better and better,” Jonathan sighed.

“Not the tube, cause it makes _you_ sound like a predator and _you_ sound like a floozy,” Lucie went on, pointing to Jonathan and Rose respectively.

“Who uses the word floozy?” Jonathan asked.  “No, wait, don’t tell me--your mother.”

“This isn’t actually helping, Luc,” Rose interjected.

“I’m narrowing it down, alright?”  Lucie closed her eyes and thought for a moment as Jonathan exchanged a look with Rose and shrugged.  “Got it.  Check out line at the bookstore.”

“Because that’s absolutely not cliche,” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t care, it’s good enough,” Rose replied, waving a hand dismissively.  "Okay, dating for six weeks, met in a bookstore, didn't want to jinx it, got it."

"Hold on, what were you buying?" Jonathan asked, and Rose stared at him, nonplussed.  "Well it stands to reason that there'd be some reason for us to strike up a conversation."

"Oh, I dunno," she said with a shrug.  "Not really a big reader."

Jonathan frowned.  "Then what would you be doing in a bookstore?"

"What does it matter?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, if we're going to be with your family, chances are they're aware of your aversion to literature," he pointed out.

"You were probably picking up one of those romances your mum loves," Lucie said, and Rose groaned.

"God, yeah.  She can't get enough of 'em.  They're like a lusty, sweaty heroin for middle aged women."

Jonathan grinned at her description, picturing the scores of half naked bodies with words like "Forbidden Temptress" emblazoned across them.  "That they are."

"So what were you buying?" Rose asked.  "What do doctors read?"

"Doctors have surprisingly similar tastes to humans," he replied, arching a brow.

“Even desperate ones?” she asked, mirroring his mannerism, and he couldn’t help grinning at her as he reached for his tea again.

“Yes, alright, touche.”  He thought back, trying to remember what he’d bought around the same time.  “We’ll go with a new copy of Good Omens for me, since _someone_ , who shall remain nameless but is sitting at this table, destroyed my last copy.”

“It’s not my fault!” Lucie burst out.  “It fell!”

“I warned you,” he said cooly.

“What book is cursed to fall in the bath?” she demanded.

“That one,” he countered.  “Anyway, so we start chatting at the bookstore over your tempestuous romance and my apocalyptic romp, and by the time you’d paid, I was entranced and asked for you phone number, which you happily gave me.”

“I must have been mad,” Rose said, shaking her head and fighting a smile.

“Completely off your head,” Jonathan agreed.  “Considering the fact that I likely looked like I hadn’t slept in a week, but there was just something about me that grabbed your interest.”

“Probably your modesty,” she replied thoughtfully, and Lucie snorted into her tea.

“Probably,” Jonathan went on, ignoring his friend.  “I called you later that night--”

“Texted,” Rose cut in.  “No one calls anymore.  How long’s it been since you’ve had a date?”

“Nevermind,” he said, shaking his head.  “Fine, texted, and you agreed to go out with me that weekend.  I invited you over to my place, where I served you boeuf bourguignon--”

“And what’s that when it’s at home?” she asked.

“Beef burgundy.”

“Ambitious.”

“You’re worth it,” he said with a shrug.  “Creme brulee followed for dessert, and then we left for a show.”

“So it wasn’t all just a ruse to lure me up to your place then?” she asked, smirking.

“Of course not,” he scoffed.  “Mostly just to show off.”

“Right,” she laughed.  “What show, then?”

“I have no idea.  What do you like?”

“What, you didn’t plan ahead?”

His brow arched again at the amused twinkle in her eye.  “Fine.  What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?”

“Ohhh...Much Ado About Nothing,” she said after a moment’s thought.

“Good choice.  And current--I’m fairly certain the RSC has a run happening.  At any rate, after the show, I surprised you with a carriage waiting outside the theater, which then took us to Hyde Park through Battersea.  We got out for a stroll near Kensington Palace, and you looked so beautiful when the breeze brushed a few stray hairs into your face that I couldn’t help reaching out and brushing them back to kiss you--the first time of many.  We got back in the carriage and it took us back to your place, where I said good night like a gentleman.  How’s that sound?”

“Great,” Rose said, her voice carrying a dreamy quality as she gazed back at him with her head resting on one hand, and he smirked.  She lifted her head and shook herself when she saw it, putting her hand back on the table.  “No one’ll believe it.”

“Why not?” he demanded, brows furrowing.

“It’s too perfect,” she replied, shaking her head.  “No one does all that for a first date.”

“He does,” Lucie chimed in, nodding at Jonathan with a sort of weary pride.  “Trust me.  Besides, you two are gonna look so gorgeous together that no one’ll be paying much attention to the details anyway.  Just make sure to paste on the dopey ‘in love’ faces and you’ll be fine.”

“If it’s not, I’m coming after you,” Rose muttered.

Jonathan reached forward, putting his hand over Rose’s.  “It’ll be fine, Rose.  I promise.”

He saw the women off to work shortly after, then headed home for some much needed sleep for the party that evening.  As much as he questioned his own proclivity for allowing Lucie to talk him into insane plots, he had to admit that there were worse ways to spend an evening than playing boyfriend to a beautiful woman.

oOoOo

“Alright, spill it,” Rose ordered once the taxi she and Lucie were in was out of sight of Lucie’s doctor friend.  “What’s wrong with him?”

“What do you mean?” Lucie asked, digging in her bag for something.

“Jonathan,” Rose said, rolling her eyes.  “If he’s so great, why’s he still single?”

"Nothing's wrong with him," Lucie replied, pulling her brush out of her bag with triumphant flourish.  "Well, apart from being a complete nerd and insufferable know-it-all."

"So why haven't you snatched him up?"

"Because it'd be like kissing my brother, that's why," Lucie said, pulling a disgusted face.  "He's a good bloke, though.  Kind.  Bit of a hero thing for damsels in distress, too, so I figured he'd be perfect for this."

Rose let out an uncertain hum.  "I still don't know about this, Luc.  I could've just said he canceled."

"And let Mickey the idiot get all superior?  Fat chance."

Rose groaned, letting her head fall back into the seat.  She still wasn't sure what had prompted her to tell her aunt that she was bringing a date to her cousin Sarah's engagement party.  She'd just panicked.  Between the fact that Sarah was younger and more successful than her and hearing again about Mickey's "lady friend", she'd snapped and said maybe she'd bring along the man she'd been seeing.  What followed immediately was a lot of white noise from her aunt and then her mother that had somehow ended with her promising to bring along a person that didn't actually exist.  Lucie, however, had immediately sprung into action, assuring her the situation was salvageable, then called her last night and told Rose to meet her at the coffee shop this morning.

Still...Jonathan was a bit dishy, with his dark hair, blue eyes, and easy smile, and he seemed nice enough.  She decided there was a small chance the evening might not be the torture she'd assumed it would be.  This did not, however, stop her from stressing about it the entire day.  By the time Jonathan showed up at her flat that evening--he insisted on driving, for the look of things--she was a complete mess of nerves.

"Rose, it's going to be fine, I promise," Jonathan said in a soothing tone as he ran his hands over her upper arms.

"We're not even really dating!". She pulled away, raising her hands to her temples.  "I just met you this morning, this is completely mad!"

"Of course it is," he agreed, coming up behind her and resting his hands on her shoulders.  "It's a plan made by Lucie Miller.  But come on, listen, we'll go, we'll charm them, and then next week I'll cheat on you and everyone can tell you how they never liked me."

"Well, when you put it that way," she said, fighting a smile.

"Exactly.  It's completely foolproof."

She let him help her into her coat, and gave him the rundown on the family he was likely to meet at the party as he led her down to his car and started driving toward her aunt's place.  Before long, he had her laughing at the bizarre mnemonic devices he made for her relations, and she was surprised at how her tension seemed to be all but forgotten in his presence.

"What about your dad?" he asked after a few minutes.

Ah. There it was.

"He died when I was a baby," she explained, looking down at her hands.  "Car accident.  Don't really remember him.  Anyway," she went on, pasting on a smile, "I never asked, what sort of doctor are you?"

He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing a little at her non-sequitur, but he didn't comment.  "I'm a surgeon."

"Really?"  She pulled an impressed face as she gazed out the windscreen.  “General, or do you have a specialty?”

“Cardiothoracic,” he told her.

“Wow,” she said, raising her eyebrows.  “That’s...actually pretty remarkable.”

“It is,” he agreed, and she snorted.

“There’s that modesty that I love so much,” she teased, and he shot a grin at her.

“Absolutely.  But really, apart from how _fascinating_ the human heart and lungs are on their own, how many people can say that they’ve literally mended a broken heart?”

She had to concede to that point.  Since they were almost to her aunt's place anyway, they spent the last few minutes filling in a few of the more obvious gaps and quizzing each other to make sure they had their stories straight.  He touched her arm after he parked, telling her to wait, and she watched in confusion as he got out of the car and rounded the bonnet to open the door for her.

“What sort of date would I be if I didn’t open the door for you?” he asked, taking her hand as she stepped out, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Yeah, alright, let’s not overdo it, Casanova,” she chided, but she let him keep hold of her hand as they approached the pub her aunt and uncle had rented out.

“Rose, there you are!” her mother, Jackie, exclaimed when they entered.  She hurried over and planted a wet kiss on Rose’s cheek.  “Thought you were never gonna get here, sweetheart.  And I suppose this is himself.”

“Jonathan Shaw,” Jonathan said, smiling disarmingly and holding out his free hand to shake Jackie’s.  “It’s a pleasure.  Rose has told me so much about you.”

“Is that right?” Jackie asked, still looking suspicious.  “Funny, cause she’d never mentioned you before the other day.”

“Mum, don’t start,” Rose cut in.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Jonathan said, squeezing her hand.  “I expect it’s mostly because I’m far less interesting to hear about.  After all, the woman who raised this incredible creature on her own must be truly remarkable.”

Jackie clucked a tongue and eyed him.  “Does that charm work for you?”

“Mm, usually,” Jonathan replied, grinning again as he nodded.

“Well, you’re certainly one for flattery,” Jackie sighed, turning away, and Rose let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  “Well, come on then, you two.  Grab a drink, celebrate.”

“Well, that’s one down anyway,” Jonathan murmured close to Rose’s ear as he tugged her toward the bar.  “Only an entire roomful to go.”

“Yeah, only,” she muttered, glancing around furtively.

“Stick with me kid,” he said, bringing up her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles.  “You’ll go far.”

“So long as by ‘far’ you mean good and pissed,” she replied as she caught sight of Mickey with his arm draped around a pretty girl that could only be the perfect Martha Jones.

“I’ll keep them as synonymous as humanly possible,” he promised, handing her a drink.

“Rose!”

Rose’s eyes flashed to Jonathan’s in a panic as she brought the glass to her lips, and he reached out to tip it up with his fingers.  She swallowed it in one go, and they grinned brightly at each other before she turned.

“Sarah!  Oh, congratulations again, let’s see the ring!”

oOoOo

“So...a doctor,” Mickey said, sidling up next to Rose at the bar.  Jonathan had disappeared to the loo after charming her family over the last couple of hours, and Rose was half regretting letting him go.  Biological imperative or not, he’d proven to be much better at this than her, and after a few drinks, she was getting paranoid again.  She pushed it down, though, hoping it was just the alcohol and the warmth of the room making her cheeks feel so hot.

“Yeah, what about him?” she asked, running a finger over the rim of her glass.

“Oh come on, Rose,” he snorted, shaking his head.  “Where’d you find him?”

“We met at a bookstore,” she mumbled, and he arched an eyebrow.  Okay, maybe the alcohol wasn’t the best plan after all.  “What?”

“I know it’s hard, seeing me move on,” he said, and the condescending tone grated against her spine.  “But--”

“What makes you think it’s got anything to do with you?” she demanded, straightening in annoyance.  “How self-centered is _that_?  Just because I came with someone who’s _actually_ a doctor and not just playing at it--”

“Everything alright?” Jonathan asked, coming up behind Rose and sliding an arm around her waist.  “It’s Rickey, isn’t it?”

Rose bit her lip when Mickey glared at Jonathan.  “Mickey.”

“Right, well, if you’ll excuse us,” Jonathan said, pulling Rose away.  “I’ve shared my girlfriend quite a lot this evening, so I think I’m going to steal a few minutes with her, if that’s alright with you.  I do believe your better half--and I do stress _better_ \--is looking for you as well.”

Rose spent the minute or so it took Jonathan to guide her to a relatively quiet corner finding out how many times she could call herself an idiot.  Bloody Mickey and his bloody perfect girlfriend, and she’d let him get a rise out of her, ‘cause he was right, course he was, the whole thing was so stupid--

“Rose!”

Her eyes flew to Jonathan’s to find his brows furrowed, and wondered briefly how many times he’s already said her name as she dropped her gaze back to the floor.  “Sorry.  I just...I don’t think they’re buying it.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head a little.  “It’s just...nothing.”

His fingers under her chin gently urged her face up to look at him again, blue eyes full of concern as he studied her.  Probably how he looked at his patients, she thought--he must have an amazing bedside manner.

“Well, there’s still one piece of indisputable evidence we can provide,” he said slowly after a moment.

“What’s that?”

He swallowed, then leaned in, hesitating centimeters from her lips--giving her a chance to pull away, she realized--before closing the distance.  His thumb moved over her jaw as his lips pressed against hers, dry and relatively cool.  Her eyes fluttered closed, and--god help her--she kissed him back.  Probably a mix of the alcohol and low self-esteem and how incredibly nice he actually had been all night, all cheerful and charming with everyone, all in a gorgeous package.  Regardless of the reasons, she couldn’t stop her hands from burying themselves in his thick, dark hair, and his own fell from her jaw to her waist as she teased his lips with her tongue.  He drew in a quick breath before descending again, mouth open to her exploration as his hands tightened convulsively on her waist and he pulled her an inch or two closer.

He broke the kiss a moment later, appearing a little breathless when she opened her eyes again.  He blinked at her, his expression vaguely concussed, before he cleared his throat and shook himself a little.

“Well, I doubt anyone will be arguing any further,” he murmured, and she gave a little nod before her mother found them again.

“Oi, you two, this is about the couple getting married,” Jackie said, pulling at them.  “If anyone’s to be found in a dark corner snogging the life out of each other, it’ll be them.”

Jonathan gave Rose a rueful smile, allowing himself to be tugged back toward the group.  They mingled for another hour before Rose’s guilt at keeping Jonathan out after a long shift that he undoubtedly was still recovering from overpowered everything else.  She made their excuses, and they said their goodbyes, Jonathan assuring everyone he was pleased as punch to meet them all.

"All things considered, I think that went rather well," Jonathan commented as he drove back to Rose's flat.  "Although I could have done without Rickey the idiot."

"It's Mickey," Rose corrected automatically.

"I know," he said, winking at her.  "I just prefer to watch him glare impotently after upsetting you."

"It's fine," she told him again, shaking her head a little.  "It's my own fault, really.  If I hadn't been lying to begin with, it wouldn't have bothered me so much."

"Maybe," he conceded.  "But would he have still acted like that if you weren't lying?"

"Probably," she admitted.

"There you are, then," Jonathan replied.  "Rickey the idiot."

Rose let out a giggle and leaned back against the headrest.  "Your little white knight routine is going to make it difficult to convince people you've cheated on me.  You played your part too well."

"Hmm, you may be right," he said thoughtfully.  "That kiss probably didn't help that particular plot point."

"Sorry about that," Rose mumbled, heat rising to her face again.

"I'm not," he said as he pulled into her lot.  "It was a good kiss-- _very_ good, has anyone told you, Miss Tyler, that you are a _phenomenal_ kisser?"

"Not lately," she laughed, undoing her seatbelt and reaching for the car handle.

"Well, it's true," he insisted.  “Hang on, wait.”

She paused, then rolled her eyes when he scrambled out and around the car to open her door for her.  “So chivalry isn’t dead then?”

“It’s in critical care,” he replied with a smirk, helping her out of the car, “but I think it’ll pull through.”

“Good thing it’s got such a good doctor taking care of it,” she quipped, crossing her arms to protect her hands from the cold as she stepped away so he could shut the door.

“Absolutely.”  He turned, burying his hands in his coat pockets.  “But as to your predicament...perhaps you could tell them I joined Doctors Without Borders, went to Africa or something.”

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” she teased, tongue poking out from her teeth a little as she grinned at him.  “Go down in infamy as my _fantastic_ doctor ex who was just too good a soul to be tied down to me and London?”

“Nothing of the sort.  I’m not _actually_ going to Africa, after all,” he reminded her, arching an eyebrow.  “But it would explain my sudden disappearance without resorting to infidelity that I’m not really sure I could go through with.”

“You’re not actually going to,” she said, frowning a little.  “You couldn’t, as we’re not really dating.”

“But the whole evening was based on if we were,” he insisted.  “And I don’t see how anyone could cheat on someone as lovely as you.”

“You don’t even really know me,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet and kicking a pebble.

“It’s not a difficult thing to see.”

She looked back up at him, surprised to find only sincerity in his eyes.  “Well...thanks.  I’ll think about it.  And, listen, thank you again for tonight.”

“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Tyler,” he said, lips twitching, then he leaned in to kiss her cheek softly.  “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Doctor Shaw,” she said as he rounded the car again.  “Drive safe.”

He gave her a quick salute, then got in the car and started it up.  She watched him drive off before turning toward her building, a small smile playing on her lips.  She was glad now that Lucie had called him--instead of being a complete disaster, the night had actually been sort of fun, apart from a couple of tense moments.  It was almost too bad, really, that she wasn’t likely to ever cross paths with him again.

oOoOo

“So how’d it go?” Lucie asked without preamble when he answered her call two days later.

“It went fine,” Jonathan replied, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he did up the tie on his scrubs.  “We went, we charmed, we left.  But for the record, I am not a fan of Mickey.”

“You and me both,” Lucie snorted.  “He’s a little tit that was never good enough for her.”

“Why on earth was she dating him then?” he demanded, sitting down to tie his shoes.

“You’ve got me,” she replied.  “Something about having known each other forever, natural evolution, I wasn’t really listening.”

Jonathan snorted, getting up and reaching for his lab coat.  “You’re an example of true friendship, you know that?”

“Yes, I do,” she said as he shrugged into his coat, and he shifted the phone to his hand to shake his head and bang his locker closed.  “But come on, what did you think of her?”

“She’s a very nice woman,” he said, making his way out of the locker room and putting the phone to his shoulder again when a nurse immediately accosted him for a signature.  “What else do you want me to say?”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” he asked, passing off the clipboard and heading down the hall.

“Nothing,” she sighed.  “Are we still on for next weekend?”

Jonathan froze, mind scrambling.  “Next weekend?”

“You and me, popcorn, cheesy holiday movies?”

“Right!  Yes, I--”  He stopped, catching sight of the hospital director heading toward him with Jonathan’s least favorite board member.  “Oh, bugger.”

“You’re not getting out of it this--”

“Lucie, I’ve got to go,” he said quickly, eyes darting around for an escape route.  “I’ll call you later and you can yell at me all you want.”

He clicked off, spinning around to make a break for another hall.

“Doctor Shaw!  So nice to see a pleasant face amidst these depressing surroundings.”

Jonathan winced, but forced a smile to his lips as he turned again.  “Mrs. Winters, so good to see you again.”

The tall redhead stopped and gestured at him with one elegantly jeweled hand.  “You see, Alistair?  Jonathan has a smile on his face.  We could do with more cheerful dispositions around here.”

“Well, Mrs. Winters, it is a hospital,” Jonathan pointed out.  “I expect that it’s a bit more difficult to be cheerful when you’re being fed through a tube or waiting on a kidney.”

“Well, you’d think they could at least _attempt_ to muster up some optimism when someone funding the hospital they’re staying in is around,” she sniffed, then smiled.  “Really, Jonathan, I’ve told you, it’s _Gail_.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure Doctor Shaw has patients to attend to,” Alistair cut in when Jonathan opened his mouth to argue again.  “Likely a visit from their doctor will buoy their spirits.”

“Yes, I’ll definitely work on that,” Jonathan said with a nod.  “Because really, what congenital heart defect can’t be cured with a little optimism?”

Alistair gave him a long-suffering look, but Gail ignored him as she stepped toward Jonathan to straighten the lapels of his lab coat.  It unnerved him a little to have to look up to such a horrible woman, and he glanced past her to Alistair for help.

“Before you go, Jonathan,” she said before Alistair could utter a word.  “You must promise that you’ll be coming to our Christmas party next weekend.”

“Oh, I--”

“Of course he’ll be there,” Alistair assured her.  “I’m positive that as one of our most respected surgeons--not to mention one of the highest paid--he wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I...I think I might have a surgery that day--”

“You don’t,” Alistair told him firmly.

“Right,” Jonathan said, looking up again at Gail’s triumphant smile as his stomach sank.  A sudden, mad idea occurred to him, and before he could stop himself, he heard himself saying, “Of _course,_ that Christmas party.  My girlfriend and I have been talking about it for weeks.”

“Girlfriend?” Gail choked, her hands tightening briefly.

“Yes, lovely girl,” Alistair said, eyes twinkling.  “I look forward to seeing her.  And now, Mrs. Winters, if you’d like to continue to my office.”

“Of course,” she replied, smoothing her hands over Jonathan’s lapels as he worked to maintain a passive expression.  “I’ll...see you there, Doctor Shaw.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, smile finally breaking free as she stepped around him.

“Doctor Lethbridge-Stewart?”

“I’ll be right with you, Mrs. Winters,” Alistair said, and she huffed and clicked off down the hall irritably.  Alistair sighed before turning to Jonathan.  “That was very neatly handled.  I trust you do actually have a girl in mind, and won’t be resorting to a call girl simply to keep a handsy board member at bay?”

“No call girl,” Jonathan promised, and Alistair nodded.

“Well, good then,” he said, turning to follow Gail.  “But if it does come to that...please don’t be afraid to not inform me.”

“Noted,” Jonathan said, cracking a grin again at Alistair’s stern look.  He watched the director catch up to Gail and usher her away to his office, then let out a breath and pulled out his phone to text Lucie.

_\--911, need Rose’s #_

_\--What for?_

_\--LUCIE_

_\--Fine.  But you owe me._

Before he could call, another nurse pounced on him about a treatment procedure, which was then followed by an emergency call that landed him in surgery for the next several hours.  He’d forgotten about the incident completely when he fell onto a sofa in the doctors’ lounge that afternoon.  It wasn’t until his phone buzzed, alerting him to a new message from Lucie, that he remembered his moment of insanity.  He groaned, running a hand down his face as he sat up and stared at his phone for a moment before taking a deep breath and dialing Rose.

“Miss Tyler,” he said when she answered.  “Jonathan Shaw.  Tell me, have I cheated on you or left for Africa yet?”

“Not as of yet, no,” she replied slowly.

“Glad to hear it,” he said.  “I have a favor to ask you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan thanked the valet quickly as he snatched the ticket up and stuffed it in his pocket.  He charged up the hotel steps, tying his bow tie on the way.  Rose was going to kill him; bad enough that she was here as a favor to him, but to be nearly late enough for her to think she'd been stood up was inexcusable.  The fact that his tardiness was due to an emergency surgery didn't make him feel any better--he'd texted her earlier to let her know, asking her to meet him here, which was clearly a mistake.  There'd been complications with the surgery, nothing dire enough that he couldn't handle, but time consuming nonetheless.  The patient was in good condition, and the high of that had been enough that he hadn't even realized how late he was until he'd gone back to the locker room and seen his tux.

He checked his appearance quickly in a mirror hanging in the corridor before making his way to the banquet hall.  The festive and obviously expensive decorations went all but completely ignored as he scanned the attendees until he found Rose in the company of a fellow doctor, Chris Edwards, and sighed in relief.  If anyone could keep her out of Gail's path, it was Chris.  The man was a veritable chameleon; Jonathan could swear that Chris had the ability to blend in with the walls around him when the wealthy board member was about.  Jonathan hurried over to them, nodding at Chris before turning his attention to Rose.

"Rose, darling, I'm so sorry I'm late," he said, catching her hand in his and leaning in to kiss her cheek.  "I hope it hasn't been too awful," he added quietly in her ear.

"It's fine," she replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly.  "How did surgery go?"

"Successfully," he told her, taking a glass of champagne off a passing tray.  "More or less.”

“Is the patient alive?” Chris asked.  “Still capable of some quality to that life?”

“Last I checked, yes.”

“Then it was successful,” the other doctor said.  “Well done.  I’ve just been getting to know your lovely girlfriend.  The one you’ve failed to mention, ever, despite multiple opportunities to do so.  Strange, that.”

Jonathan shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Rose.  “Yes, well...there’s a very good reason for that.”

“I'm there is.  If I were the object of Gail Winters’ wayward and frankly alarming affection, I’d invent a girlfriend as well,” Chris said mildly, tipping his own glass up.  His eyes glanced past Jonathan, and he nodded.  “Incoming.”

Jonathan stiffened as he turned, but relaxed when he saw Alistair, without Gail in tow.  He let go of Rose’s hand in favor of resting his hand on the small of her back.  It was only when his thumb moved over skin instead of fabric that he actually took in what Rose was wearing--he’d told her it was black tie, but she really had outdone herself with the silvery, curve hugging dress with the low back and sheer shawl.  Her hair was done up in curls, sparkling gems showing between the blonde tresses here and there.

“Rose, you look stunning,” he said, and she smirked at the surprised tone in his voice.  “I probably should have mentioned that sooner.”

“I’ll forgive you this time,” she teased, then let her eyes drift over him.  “You’re looking rather dashing yourself.  Although your bow tie’s crooked, here.”

He took the glass she handed him, and she stepped between his arms to straighten his bow tie, smoothing her hands over his lapels when she was finished.

“Acceptable?” he asked, lips twitching.

“It’ll do,” she said with a grin.  Her hands were still on his chest, and Jonathan wondered idly if it was too early in the evening to kiss her--for the show of things, obviously.

"Ah, Doctor Shaw," Alistair boomed, and Rose winked as she took her glass back and turned to face the director.  "Good of you to join us.  I trust surgery went well?"

"Yes sir."

"Glad to hear it.  And this must be the girlfriend we've heard so much about!"

"Have we?" Chris asked, tilting his head a little, and Jonathan cut an annoyed look at him before returning his attention to Alistair.

"Yes, my apologies, may I introduce Miss Rose Tyler?"  He returned his hand to Rose's back and nodded at Alistair.  "Sweetheart, this is the director of the hospital, Doctor Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart."

"Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Lethbridge-Stewart," Rose said, shaking his hand.

"Oh, my dear, Alistair, please," he replied warmly.  "And I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."

Rose glanced between the three men as Alistair released her, landing on Jonathan.  "Tell me, is an overabundance of charm a prerequisite to healthcare in general, or just your hospital?"

"Neither," Jonathan said with a shrug.  "Alistair here is just more involved with the political side of things."

"While Jonathan and I are just naturally wonderful to be around," Chris added with a grin.

"Exactly," Jonathan agreed, sipping at his champagne.

"Yes, well, don't let them fool you greatly, Miss Tyler," Alistair put in with a frown eerily reminiscent of one of Jonathan's old headmasters.  "I've seen these two degrade themselves to secondary school humor often enough."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rose laughed as Chris and Jonathan exchanged unrepentant grins.

“As entertaining as this is, I suppose I should go schmooze the other party-goers,” Alistair said regretfully.  “Rose, be sure to find me if you get bored with the toilet humor passing for charisma these days.”

“Will do,” Rose replied with a winning smile, then turned to Jonathan with a conspiratorial look as the director moved away.  “So which one is the scary lady with the weather person name?”

Chris let out a thoughtful hum as Jonathan glanced around.  “It is tragically meteorological, isn’t it?”

“To her parents’ credit, that’s only by marriage,” Jonathan said distractedly, pulling Rose closer when he caught sight of her.  “Redhead, two o’clock.”

“Right.”  Rose studied her a moment, then tilted her head in confusion.  “So, hold on.  She’s married, but still chasing you?”

“The Winters’ marriage is by and large known to be motivated by wealth and politics, rather than actual affection for each other,” Chris explained.

“Mhm, they’re never crass enough to be caught with other lovers,” Jonathan added, turning with Rose to face Chris in an effort to be _slightly_ less obvious about staring, “but it is universally acknowledged that said lovers do exist in plenty, and are well taken care of.”

“But not a position you’d want?”

“Not particularly,” he replied.

“Well, considering your ability to whip up French cuisine and a private carriage ride at a moment’s notice, you can probably take care of yourself rather well.”

Jonathan flashed a grin at her.  “Exactly.”

“But, alright, if she’s not worried about her _marriage_ , what makes you think she’ll stop pursuing you if you’ve got a girlfriend?” she asked, frowning at him, and he shrugged.

“It’s worth a try,” he replied.

“Since he’s not allowed to be so insulting as to outright reject her,” Chris put in.  “She’s worth too much to the hospital.”

“And has enough pull to get me sacked if she so desired,” Jonathan added.

“That too.”  Chris drained his glass and left it on another tray as it passed, then stuffed his hands in his pockets.  “I am, however, very much looking forward to witnessing her reaction to Rose...which should be quite soon.  Heads up.”

Jonathan turned his head to follow Chris’ gaze, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw Gail headed their way.  He tugged Rose closer, and felt her arm snake up his back to his shoulder.  He turned his head a little toward her, and fought a shiver when she whispered with her lips against his ear.

“Smile, you look like you’re facing a firing squad.”

“Might as well be,” he muttered, but managed a tight smile when she settled on her feet again and raised her eyebrows.

“Jonathan, darling, so glad you could make it!” Gail trilled, holding out her hands for his.  Unfortunately for her, both his hands were full--one with a still half full glass of champagne, the other with Rose--so she was forced to awkwardly clasp them in front of her.  Her smile faltered slightly as she took in the total lack of distance between his body and Rose’s, but she recovered quickly.  “And who are your...friends?”

Jonathan’s eyebrows bunched as he looked over Rose’s head at Chris, who didn’t miss a beat.

“Christian Edwards, Mrs. Winters,” he said, holding out a hand.  “I do believe we’ve met before, however.”

“Christian Edwards,” she repeated, blinking at him as she shook his hand limply.  “How very...forgettable.”

“I do pride myself on that particular facet of my personality, ma’am.”

Jonathan choked in his attempt to hide his laughter in a sip of champagne as she turned to him and Rose again with a dismissive sniff.  She narrowed her eyes at Rose, lip curling up a little--although Jonathan couldn’t quite tell if it was because she was unimpressed with his date, or because Rose looked so much better.  He greatly suspected the latter, since that was an objective fact, as far as he was concerned.

"And who is this?" she asked in a patronizing tone as she gave Rose a simpering smile.

"Of course, Mrs. Winters, this is my girlfriend, Rose Tyler."

Rose shifted her glass to her other hand to shake Gail's.  "Mrs. Winters, it's a pleasure.  I've heard so much about you."

“Have you?” Gail asked, looking superior.  “Does Jonathan talk about me?  Silly boy, you’ll make your girlfriend jealous.”

“Not likely,” Rose replied, her smile never faltering, and Chris made a strangled noise behind them.  Rose glanced over her shoulder at him.  “You alright, Chris?”

“Fine,” he choked, snagging another glass of champagne and angling it at her in toast.  “Splendid, really.”

“Still, lovely party,” Rose said, turning back to Gail with a smile a bit too predatory to be considered friendly.  “Very festive.  Considering how hard it is to get this one out--always wants to stay in on his nights off, bless, not that I’d complain--”

“Now, darling, I’m sure Mrs. Winters doesn’t want to hear about the more sordid details of our relationship,” Jonathan cut in, barely able to keep from laughing out loud at the sour look flooding Gail’s features.

“Of course, I’m sorry,” Rose said, rolling her eyes with an apologetic laugh.  “Point is, it’s nice to get out and mingle a bit now and then.”

She punctuated her statement with a fond tap on Jonathan’s chest that ended as more of a caress, and he turned his head to nuzzle into her hair a little--for the show of things.

“Of course,” Gail said, looking a bit like she’d swallowed a bug.  “Well, I suppose I should attend to my other guests.  Lovely to meet you, Rose.”  Chris smiled when her eyes slid to him, and his grin only widened when she waved a hand and added, “Whatever your name is.”

“Good to know our relationship hasn’t suffered at all, Mrs. Winters,” he said to her retreating back as Rose giggled.

Jonathan let out a slow breath, then pulled Rose around to face him.  “You are a magnificent creature, you know that?”

“Well, thanks,” she said with a laugh, looping her arms around his neck when his hands found a place at her waist.  “I was worried I might have gotten a bit carried away for a moment.”

“Oh, no, you were perfect,” he argued.  She gave him a teasing grin, tongue poking out just a bit from her teeth, and he found himself thoroughly distracted for a moment before he shook himself and dragged his eyes back up to hers.  “Best fake girlfriend I could ask for.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my CV,” she told him with mock sincerity.

“Please do.  I can assure you that you’ll receive nothing but glowing recommendations from me.  Ten out of ten, would recommend.  Good for all occasions.”

“Well, I am _very_ flexible.”

Jonathan arched a brow, suddenly incredibly aware of how close his “girlfriend” was standing.  “Must be why I choose to spend all my night’s off in.”

“Must be.”

There was a charged moment as her tongue made another flirting appearance, until Chris cleared his throat behind them.

“Right,” the other doctor said, watching them as they jumped apart.  “Well, I’m glad that’s all sorted.  Now, what do you say we enjoy the ample provisions of our...likely bitter host before you two get us kicked out?”

“Ohh, yes, I’m starved,” Rose said with feeling as she turned toward the buffet laid out along one wall.  “Don’t suppose a posh thing like this’d serve chips, do you?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Jonathan replied, shrugging.  “Lead on, Miss Tyler.”

Chris fell into step with Jonathan as they followed Rose, a quizzical expression on his face.

“You are sure she’s your _fake_ girlfriend, right?”

oOoOo

Disaster struck an hour into the party.

It started innocently enough; so much so that Jonathan wasn’t even the one to spot what was happening.  Rose had gone to the ladies, and Chris was being chatted up by one of the waitresses, and he’d ended up defenseless...which, of course, meant that Gail Winters found him.  It was really uncanny, the way she could suss out when he was most vulnerable.

“Oh, Jonathan, did your girlfriend desert you?” Gail asked, stepping out of the crowd like the bad hallucination he genuinely wished she was.  She gave him a little pout that grated against his sensibilities, and stroked his bicep with one hand as she looped her other arm through his.  “Well, we can’t have you be standing all alone.”

“Really, I’m fine,” he said quickly, looking around for help.  “Rose will be back in a moment--”

“Oh, come now, Jonathan,” she simpered.  “I’m sure she will, perhaps she’s just gotten distracted.  But I so wanted to show you a piece of art Roger and I donated to this hotel that I think you’ll simply love.  I will honestly just feel _too_ insulted if you refuse!”

“I...alright,” he sighed, seeing no way out of it.

“Marvellous!  It’s just this way,” she said, guiding him to the double doors leading into the corridor.

His neck itched with unease as he tried to figure out exactly what her game was.  Obviously to get him alone, but to what end?  Did she really think that if he and Rose simply lost sight of each other, their relationship would suddenly cease to matter?  Well, their supposed relationship.

He cast another furtive glance over one shoulder as they approached the door, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Rose appeared at the other.

“Jonathan, there you are,” she said, twining the fingers of his free hand with hers.  “Chris said he saw you come this way.”

“How very informative of him,” Gail said, looking like someone had snatched her candy.

“Mrs. Winters was going to show me a piece of art,” Jonathan explained, looking between the two women in confusion as they eyed each other.

“Really?  I’d love to see it,” Rose said with a bright and rather chilly smile.  “Oh, but first, Jonathan, would you look at that?”  He followed her gaze as it moved heavenward, but his eyes shot back to her when he saw the mistletoe hanging above the door, Gail’s plan becoming instantly clear.  “I do love Christmas, don’t you?”

“At this moment, I love quite a lot of things,” he told her honestly, earning another tongue-touched grin before he extricated himself from Gail’s grasp to slip his arms around Rose. 

In her heels, Rose was only an inch or so shorter than him, making it almost obscenely easy to lean forward and kiss her.  Still, as he had at the pub, he hesitated briefly, giving her a chance to pull away; this time, though, she closed the distance herself, her lips finding his unerringly.  Her arms wound around his neck, and he felt one of her hands scratch at his scalp at the same time she nipped at his lip.  He angled his head, determinedly giving as good as he got--pretense or not, he hadn’t been lying when he’d said she was a phenomenal kisser, and it seemed rude not to enjoy the moment.  His tongue slid over hers when it slipped in his mouth, then chased hers back into her mouth without hesitation.

When he did finally pull back, easing off into slower, chaste pecks before breaking away completely, he stayed close, his face only and inch or two from hers.  He watched, fascinated, as she licked her lips before the same lips curved into a smile and her eyes fluttered open.

“I think Christmas might be my new favorite holiday,” she said, a trace of huskiness in her voice.

Jonathan hummed in agreement, his eyes travelling over her gorgeous and slightly flushed features.  “I admit, I’m finding new enjoyment in it as well.  Such... _lovely_ traditions.”

“Traditional?” Chris’ voice said from the side, shattering the moment and making them step apart and spin toward him.  “Is that what we’re calling that kiss?  Back in my day, that’d’ve landed you both on the naughty list for life.”

“One can only assume you’ve been tragically relegated to the nice list your entire existence, then,” Jonathan replied distractedly, glancing around.  “Where did Gail go?”

“Mrs. Winters huffed off that way,” Chris said, lifting one finger from his glass to point away from them.  “Apparently...someone hath stolen her bird’s nest.  So I can only assume she’s attempting to bind up a rod to bestow on you.”

Rose smiled in surprise when she recognized the reference, but Jonathan merely arched a brow at his friend.

“Don’t be too impressed, Rose,” he cautioned, “he only knows that because his sister forced him to join her at the RSC two weeks ago.  How do you think I knew it was current?”

“But at least it shows he enjoyed it,” she reasoned.  “That’s something.”

“I don’t think you can praise someone for accidentally enjoying something.”

“Oi, rude,” she retorted.  “If that was the case, no one would be allowed to enjoy anything new.  And honestly, the only people that _set out_ to enjoy Shakespeare are pretentious academics.”

“Oh, I _like_ her,” Chris said, grinning at Rose.  “Not to worry, he’s just jealous because he knows he can never compete on...equal footing in the tall, dark, and handsome category.”

Jonathan snorted, taking Rose’s hand and heading back into the throng, hopefully to locate another drinks tray.  “I don’t need to; I make up for more than your height in skill.”

“Skill?” Rose asked.

“With my hands,” he told her with a wink.

“He’s talking about surgery,” Chris interjected, still following them.  “And, for the record, the allegation is completely false.”

“Right, surgery,” Jonathan said with a grin.  “Whatever makes you feel more secure.”

The rest of the evening passed without incident; Chris and Rose created a protective barrier against further plots by Gail Winters, and all three managed to have a surprisingly good time for it.  By the time Jonathan drove Rose home, he was almost sorry to see the night come to a close.

“I suppose we’ll have to use both excuses now,” he said, leaning against the car after helping her out.

“Hmm?”

“Well, I’ll go to Africa, and I suppose you’ll cheat on me,” he explained with a shrug.

Rose nodded thoughtfully.  “We really have an amazingly dysfunctional relationship.”

“Almost a blessing that it end now, before it becomes that much more tawdry.”

“Definitely,” she agreed, and they shared a grin before she sighed.  “It was fun, though...playing your girlfriend.”  He hummed a little in assent, nodding.  “And, hey, should keep _Mrs. Winters_ off your scent for a bit, at least.”

“With any luck,” he replied.  “And I can only hope that your family will come to terms with you being the lone singleton for a bit.”

“Oh, dunno about that,” Rose said ruefully.  “Mum _really_ wants to be a grandmum one day.”

“Get a cat?” he suggested, smiling when she giggled.

She leaned forward, kissing him softly on the cheek.  “Merry Christmas, Doctor Shaw.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss Tyler.  Good luck.”

“With what?”

Jonathan shrugged.  “Everything.”

oOoOo

"But _why_ did you have to invite _him_?"

"I couldn't help it," Lucie said with a shrug.  "He heard me talking about it, and I'd already invited pretty much everyone else.  What was I supposed to say?  'I know all your mates are coming, but Rose thinks you're creepy'?"

"Yes," Rose said, nodding vigorously.

"It'll be fine," Lucie assured her.  "Besides, I already told him you had a boyfriend, so he shouldn't hit on you too bad."

"What?" Rose stared at her friend, nonplussed.  "Luce, that's not gonna help."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, Owen Harper isn't the type to ease up just cause he's been told I'm unavailable," Rose explained.  "For another, I don't _have_ a boyfriend."

"Will do," Lucie replied easily.  "Jonathan's coming this year."

" _What_?"

"Yeah, he worked Christmas," Lucie explained, completely ignoring Rose's shocked features as she hung decorations.  "So he's got New Year's off.  Been forever since he's been able to come to my party."

"Can't think why he'd want to miss it," Rose snorted.  "But Luc, Jonathan isn't actually my boyfriend."

"You've both played the part a couple of times, though," Lucie reasoned as she hopped off her step stool.  "Sure he won't mind stepping back into the role.”

“That’s not the point!  I can’t just keep relying on him to play my boyfriend whenever it’s convenient for me!”

“Why not?” Lucie asked.  “It’s not as if he’s got anything else going on, stuffed shirt that he is.”

Rose tilted her head as her friend upended a bottle of rum into a punch bowl.  “How did you two ever become friends?”

“I broke into his flat when I was sixteen,” Lucie replied without missing a beat.  “It was an accident.”

“How...how do you break into someone’s flat on _accident_?” Rose demanded.

“Thought it was someone else’s,” Lucie said with a shrug.  “I’d tied one on pretty well, and thought it was me mate’s place, and fell asleep on his sofa.”

“And he wasn’t at all _bothered_ by this?” Rose asked, staring at Lucie with a sort of fascinated horror.

“He was too knackered to care about much,” Lucie said, adding actual juice to the lake of alcohol she'd created.  “Didn’t have much worth stealing anyway, not back then, so he just let me be.  Been friends ever since.”

“Naturally,” Rose snorted.

"Not like he's got anyone else," Lucie went on.  "Well, suppose now he's got that Chris bloke, but I've never met him.  But he's got no family or anything, so he's become an honorary Miller.  That's what my Aunty Pat says, anyway, but I think she's got a crush on him."

 _Who wouldn’t_? Rose thought.  She hated relying on him like that, though, especially when he was pressed into it by Lucie.  It wasn’t fair.  That said, she was looking forward to seeing him again, without all the pressure of pretence, because they had managed to have a good time the last couple of times she’d seen him.  She found herself hoping that the office sleaze simply wouldn’t show up--unlikely, since New Year’s parties with free booze was like honey to a bear, but still.

That hope only made her more disappointed when he showed up before Jonathan had made any sort of appearance.

“Must not be much of a boyfriend if he left you to the wolves on New Year’s Eve,” Owen sneered, leaning close to Rose.  Rose eyed his ferrety features in distaste as she leaned back, avoiding all contact with even the inches around him.  “I’d be happy to keep you company in his place.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” a now familiar baritone voice said behind Rose as a hand slipped around her waist.  Rose’s head whipped around to find Jonathan smirking at her, relief flooding through her.  Unfair or not, she was definitely glad to see him.  “Sorry I’m late, darling.”

“Not a problem,” she said, feeling almost giddy as she laughed and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “When you’re dating a surgeon, you just have to be flexible.”

She winked when his eyes widened a little, and he chuckled.  “I’m certainly lucky to have found someone so patient,” he said, turning to Owen.  “Sorry, Jonathan Shaw.  And you are?”

“Owen Harper.”  The other man’s usually overconfident demeanor seemed to have abandoned him; he was eyeing Jonathan with the same sort of petty contempt you’d find in a spotty fifteen year old gazing at a rising football star.  “I work with Lucie and Rose.”

“How nice for you,” Jonathan said, giving him a polite smile before turning back to Rose.  “I need some punch.  Care to join me?”

“Only if by punch you mean gin that tastes vaguely fruity,” she said with a grin.

“Ah, Lucie made her specialty, then,” Jonathan said, already leading her away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Rose twisted to throw her arms around Jonathan’s neck.  He laughed, returning the hug with strong arms that nearly pulled her off her feet.  One of these days she was going to have to ask when he found the time to work out, because he _clearly_ did.  Biceps like that didn’t create themselves.

“My hero,” she murmured against his ear, and he pulled back to smile down at her.  “Seriously, thanks for saving me.  Dunno what Lucie was thinking, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, waving a hand dismissively as she stepped out of his embrace.  “It’ll save me from being told I have to kiss someone completely random at midnight.”

“Oh, god, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Rose realized, eyes widening in horror.

“Well, Miss Tyler, if kissing me is so unappealing--”

“Shut up,” she laughed, and he grinned.  “Come on...I have a feeling we’re gonna need a _lot_ of punch.”

“Absolutely.”

Apart from the understood fact that they were there together, they still didn’t have the same sort of image to maintain that they’d had the last two times they’d been around each other, and ended up having a surprisingly good time.  They chuckled at Lucie flitting about her party like the social butterfly she was, occasionally coming around to them and tell them to be more social.  That usually ended with Jonathan reminding her that she was was the one who’d decided to tell everyone they were dating--they were merely playing the part of disgustingly in love couple that she’d set for them--which would inevitably turn into a bickering match about him using it as an excuse to be antisocial until Rose promised they’d mingle and then drag him to another unoccupied pocket to chat until Lucie found them again.

By the time they neared midnight, Rose was pretty lit.  If Jonathan’s relaxed smile and posture were any indication, he was in much the same state.  He’d managed to get them a spot on the sofa, leaning back in the corner with his arm draped lazily across the back behind Rose.

“And the next thing I knew, I was engaged,” Jonathan was saying, and Rose burst out laughing, one arm curling around her stomach as it started aching.

“You _can’t_ be serious,” she protested.

“Oh, I assure you, I am,” he said, taking a sip from his red plastic cup.  “It’s not completely unheard of, foodstuffs as proposals.  With the Aztecs it was cocoa, I believe.”

“But how could you not know?” she demanded.

“How could I have?  Rose, I’m from Liverpool.  I’d had about the ethno awareness of a gnat--I’d never even read National Geographic.”  He smiled when she continued to giggle.  “I’ll tell you, though, my girlfriend didn’t find it _nearly_ as amusing.”

“Can’t think why,” she said, shaking her head in mock amazement as she brought her own cup to her lips.  She nearly choked, though, when a shrill whistle cut through the chatter, and she looked up to see Lucie standing on a chair in the middle of the room.

“Alright, you lot, shut it,” she called.  “Countdown’s about to start, so grab whoever you’re trying to pull for the night and get ready to ring in the new year!  Come on, up you get.  Yeah, Jonathan, that means you too.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and sighed before standing, and Rose bit her lip.  In all the talking--and all the alcohol--this bit had completely slipped her mind.  “You don’t have to, you know.”

“And let Owen think you’ve been left to the wolves?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he held his hands out to her.  “Perish the thought.”

Rose snorted and let him pull her to her feet.  “Mangy puppies, more like.”

“Be that as it may,” he said, hands finding her waist.  “I can think of worse ways to start the new year.”

“There is that,” she said with a giggle as the countdown started.  His own lips quirked in response, then found hers as the horns, noisemakers, and happy, drunken shouts rang in the new year.  Rose laughed against his mouth and clutched his neck as Jonathan dipped her backwards, apparently going for as much flair as possible.

He pulled back after a moment, holding her steady but not straightening.  “Happy New Year, Miss Tyler.”

“Happy New Year, Doctor Shaw,” she replied, grinning up at him, and he dropped another quick kiss to her mouth before hauling her upright.  “Careful, this might become a habit.”

His expression changed, brows furrowing together as he considered her.  Right, probably shouldn’t have mentioned that, she realized fuzzily.  She really just shouldn’t drink around him.  It seemed to get her into trouble.

“Sorry, just meant--”

“I know what you meant,” he assure her, but was still giving her an odd look.  “Listen, I’m going to get another drink--or six, because it’s New Year’s, and therefore we’re practically required to get completely wrecked.  Care to join me?”

 _Sod it_.

A couple of hours and several drinks later, Rose found herself out on Lucie’s balcony with Jonathan, leaning on the railing and looking out at the celebrating city.  Rose was feeling warm despite the temperature--possibly because Jonathan had insisted on wrapping his coat around her--and more than a little intoxicated, but in a good way.

“This was fun,” she said, nudging Jonathan with her shoulder.

“It was, yeah,” he agreed after another sip, sounding surprised.  “It’s been a while since I was able to get away for New Year’s Eve, I’m glad this year turned out differently.  _And_ I got a kiss out of it, so that’s a bonus,” he added, holding up his plastic cup in toast.  Rose tapped hers to it with a grin, and he winked at her as she took a drink.

“So, when was the last time you kissed someone you actually liked on New Year’s?” she asked.

“I like you,” he argued, frowning at her.

“No, but like... _like_ liked?”

“I’m sorry, have we time traveled to the third year of school?”

“Yes,” she retorted, and he snorted when she stuck her tongue out at him.  “So?”

Jonathan sighed.  “It’s...been a few years.”

“Do you miss her?” she asked, some distant voice telling her to be quiet, but the alcohol muffled it nicely.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, looking thoughtful.  “More the closeness, I think.  There was a time we were practically the same person.”

“So what happened?” she asked.

“Mmm, a lot of things,” he said with a shrug.  “Ending with a goodbye letter at a hotel in Singapore.”

Rose stared at him, stunned.  “What, seriously?”

Jonathan shrugged again, taking a long drink from his plastic cup.  “It sounds worse than it was.  Not that it was exactly _thrilling_ ,” he admitted, raising his eyebrows.  “But I think it’s possible I deserved it.  And hindsight being what it is, she deserved better.”

“So, did you learn any valuable lessons from…”

“Charley,” he supplied with a smirk.  “And yes.  What about you?  Learn anything from your Rickey the idiot?”

Rose snorted and rolled her eyes at him.  “Yeah.  Don’t settle.”

“Very beneficial,” Jonathan said, but she narrowed her eyes when he appeared to be fighting a smile.  “And one he is probably uniquely qualified to impart.”

“Yeah, alright, cheap shots aside,” she said, and he grinned at her, “he’s not a bad bloke.  He was there when I needed someone.  But that’s all...he was just... _there_.  And I think--maybe--I might need more than that.”

“Absolutely correct,” he agreed.

She watched him for a minute, then leaned closer, wrapping her arms around one of his.  “So what life lessons did Charley leave you with?”

Jonathan gazed out at the city for a moment before answering.  “That the certainty of ending up alone is very much a self-fulfilling prophecy.”  He glanced at her frown and tilted his head, thinking of a way to explain.  “Apparently, holding people at arm’s length is counterproductive to lifelong relationships.  Unless one of the parties is Lucie Miller, and then you’re doomed regardless.”

Rose snorted and let her head fall to his shoulder.  “That’s a very depressing lesson, Jonathan.”

“Perhaps, but necessary,” he replied.

“So how come there hasn’t been anyone else?” she asked.

“I finished my specialty training just before the split,” he explained.  “I started at the hospital just after, and sort of threw myself into it.”

“Suppose that’s sort of necessary, being a surgeon.”

“A bit, yeah,” he agreed.  “So I haven’t really had the time--or energy--to find someone else.”

“Know the feeling,” Rose sighed, lifting her head.  “It’s just seems like more effort than it’s worth.  Now if we could just figure out a way to get everyone else to stop trying to set us up or make us feel like we’re riddled with disease or something.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding thoughtful and frowning again.  “I wonder, though...if there might be a solution to that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...it’s like you said earlier...this is becoming a habit,” he said slowly.  “I think there might be a way for this to be mutually beneficial.  How would you feel, Miss Tyler, about something of a standing arrangement?”


	3. Chapter 3

The rules were simple enough.  When either of them needed to present a significant other for some social event, they could call the other.  They made a limit of four appearances for each of them in a month--more than adequate.  Because they were sloshed and, as such, more candid than they would usually be, stipulations about kissing and sex were added.  They both recognized a physical attraction to the other, so sex was strictly prohibited, as it would only complicate things, and kissing was limited to times when people they were trying to fool were present, as evidence.  In addition, there was a firm get out clause--if either of them did meet someone, the arrangement ended, no questions asked.

They did seal the deal with a kiss, though.  It seemed only right.

They didn’t talk about the fact that the kiss involved quite a bit more tongue than necessary.

Or the way it ended with Rose pressed against the railing.

They were drunk, after all.

oOoOo

“Remind me why we’re bowling tonight?” Chris asked as they exited Jonathan’s car.

“Because my friend Lucie, in all her infinite wisdom, decided that what her office really needed was a post-holiday party,” Jonathan explained with a shake of his head.  “She’ll find any reason to for a party.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t really answer the question,” Chris replied, holding the door to the bowling alley open.  “Why are _we_ here?”

“Because the office, specifically one Owen Harper, is under the impression that Miss Tyler has a boyfriend,” Jonathan said, glancing around for the group when they made it inside.

“Ah, right, the ‘arrangement’,” Chris said.  “How’s that going for you?”

Jonathan shrugged.  “Fine, I suppose.  This is the first time it’s been enforced since New Year’s.”

He didn’t add that he was happier than he probably should have been when Rose called and told him she needed him for boyfriend detail.  It had only been two weeks since they’d seen each other, but he’d found himself thinking of her more often than was healthy.  They’d had fun that night talking, and he rather wished he had some excuse to simply spend time with her, just as friends, but wasn’t entirely sure how to go about making that happen.

Leave it to Lucie Miller to create another situation that pushed them together again.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone shouted his name, and he barely had time to turn before Rose barrelled into him, throwing her arms around his neck.  He laughed and returned the embrace without hesitation.

“I’m so glad you could make it!”

“That bad?” he asked quietly in her ear.

“Owen apparently still thinks there’s a possibility for something on the side,” she informed him, rolling her eyes.

“Really?  Well, Rose, you know, you can always end this arrangement if you suddenly find yourself falling for him--”

“Shut up,” she said, and he laughed against her lips when she leaned up to kiss him quickly.  When she pulled away and saw Chris over his shoulder, she let out a happy squeal and jumped away from Jonathan to hug him.

Chris’ eyebrows jumped in surprise, but he happily returned the embrace.  “Friendly one, isn’t she?”

“Mm, yes,” Jonathan replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she said, flushing a little as she pulled away.  “Just good to see you.  Oh, and you finally get to meet Lucie!”

“She’s the crazy one that strong-armed you into a lifelong friendship and orchestrated this whole pretense, right?”

“That’s the one,” Jonathan said with a grin.

“Excellent, looking forward to it,” Chris replied.  “Lead on.”

Chris and Lucie, naturally, were quick friends.  If the flirting between them was any indication, more than that.  Jonathan shook his head in exasperation when Chris took it upon himself to show Lucie the perfect throw, even while finding any excuse possible to touch Rose whenever Owen looked his way.  The annoyed look on his rodent features was its own reward.

It was when they’d broken off from the group for Rose to get her chips fix that it occurred to him that, as much as he normally would prefer to just throw himself into bed or watch football on his days off, he was once again having a good time.  He’d put up with Rose teasing him as he got his admittedly rusty bowling skills back into shape--at one point, she’d said she couldn’t take it, and picked up his ball to throw for him, leading to him bodily carrying her from the lane while she giggled before throwing a neat spare--and she’d dealt with his total lack of patience when one of her coworkers started talking about a diet that had no scientific backing whatsoever.  His snapping on the woman, claiming she was exactly the sort of gullible fool that these pseudoscientists rely on, was what had made her pull him away to the food counter in the end; he was worried, until she burst out laughing as soon as they were out of earshot.

“So I was thinking,” Rose said, her voice a little thick as she washed her chips down with a sip of her Coke, “we should have some actual date nights.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, reaching forward to steal one of her chips.  “We can just invent dates, like we did with the first one.”

Rose shook her head.  “There’s got to be some actual dates--if we make ‘em all up, we’re bound to mess up sometime, get our stories crossed.”

“Mmm, yes, I see your point,” he agreed thoughtfully.  “Well, alright, how about this--we each sacrifice one of our allowed appearance demands, and we have one of your dates every two weeks.  We can trade off picking what we do.”

She studied him for a moment, nibbling at the end of her straw.  “Have you done this before?  Arrangements like this?”

“Never.  Why?”

“You’re just very quick with solutions,” she said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s not all that hard to sort out,” he told her.  “And really, it’s made easier by the fact that, fake relationship aside, I genuinely enjoy being around you.  You’re fun.”

“Well thanks,” she laughed, tongue poking out from her grin.  “Yeah, I know what you mean.  It’s sort of the best of both worlds isn’t it?  All the perks of an actual relationship, with none of the drama.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, returning her smile.

oOoOo

The plan for bimonthly date nights worked exactly once.  After that, they decided to make that a minimum only, and found themselves meeting for lunch or going out for a film once or twice a week.  Chris questioned again whether Jonathan was certain about the pretense of their relationship, but Jonathan waved him off; the romantic relationship might be fake, but Rose was becoming a very real friend in the process, a bonus he hadn’t foreseen but wasn’t about to complain about.

It was some six weeks after their arrangement was put in place that Jonathan fell into Gail Winters’ path again.  It was Valentine’s Day, and the board member was once again at the hospital attempting to spread cheer, inexplicably attempting to play Cupid amongst the doctors, nurses, and patients.

“As unethical as it is,” Chris said as they watched her try to pair up a man who’d probably go into cardiac arrest if he got an erection with a nurse known by all to have a very nice girlfriend, “I can’t help but enjoy watching the trainwreck.”

“She really has no boundaries at all,” Jonathan remarked, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Do you think she could find a date for me?” Chris mused, both of them tilting their head quizzically as Gail joined the hands of the patient and the nurse with a smile.

“She’d have to remember who you are first,” Jonathan reminded him, finally turning away to grab a chart.  “Anyway, you already have a date.”

“I do,” Chris replied, keeping pace with him as he made his way to a patient’s room.  “A lovely one, at that."  Chris had asked Lucie out a week after the bowling night; since then, he'd spent most of his nights off in her company.  "But I’m still morbidly curious who she’d pair me with.”

“Probably a houseplant,” Jonathan answered, and Chris snorted as Jonathan left him in the hall to check on his patient.

Satisfied with his patient’s recovery, Jonathan left the room again twenty minutes later, only to find himself face to face with Gail.

"Oh, Jonathan, fancy running into you!" she said with a winning smile as he gulped down his reflexive panic.

"Yes, shocking," he managed.  "Running into me here, at the hospital, where I work eighty hours a week."

"Yes, well, I think you've been dodging me lately, you scamp," she teased, slapping his shoulder.  "Has that girlfriend of yours been keeping you so tied up that you haven't any time to spare for little old me?"

Jonathan’s eyes widened as a vision of being tied up by Rose surged unbidden to his mind, and he coughed awkwardly.  “Nothing of the sort, Mrs. Winters, I assure you.  It’s merely an...unhappy accident that has kept our paths from crossing,” he added, his voice only a little strangled by the exaggeration.

“Oh, I do hope nothing bad has happened between you two,” she said with a pout, and he frowned at her.

“Not at all,” he said, feeling like he’d lost the plot a bit.  “Why would you think--”

“Jonathan!”  Rose’s voice behind him sounded like a choir of angels at that moment, and he spun around in relief to see her walking toward them.  “Hello, Mrs. Winters.  I hope you won’t mind if I steal him for a moment, but there’s something we really need to discuss.”

“Of course,” she said graciously, and Jonathan glanced back at her again briefly as Rose tugged him toward the nearby on-call room.  As soon as the door closed, he frowned at her.  “Rose what is this--”

Rose put a finger to her lips, looking past him at the door before pulling him further into the room.  “She’s probably listening,” she whispered.

“Why would she do that?” he asked, completely baffled by the whole scenario.

“Because she’s _really_ hoping we’re on the rocks, and she’ll get to hear us argue,” Rose explained, shrugging.  “I’ve known plenty of people like her.”

Jonathan stared at her.  “So...what, we’re just going to stand here and hope she goes away?”

“No.”  Rose grinned at him, then closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she let out a low moan.  Jonathan’s eyebrows shot to his hairline as she ran a hand over her neck and followed the moan up with a panting groan and a murmur of his name.

“Rose, what are you _doing_?” he hissed, stepping toward her and glancing nervously back at the door.  He was startled to see there was indeed a telltale shadow underneath the door, proving someone was standing just behind it.

“She wants to listen,” she muttered back.  “I’m just giving her something worth listening to.”

She held his gaze as she let out another suggestive--and more than a little delicious--sound, and he quirked an eyebrow at her before taking hold of her hips and driving her back toward the bunk bed.  Her breath caught as he raised a hand to the top bunk next to her head, and he leaned down toward her.

“Might as well make it realistic,” he murmured, then shook the bed so it squeaked.

Rose covered her mouth as a laugh bubbled up, and she glanced back at the door with dancing eyes.  He gasped, then made a hoarse groan of his own along with another shake of the bed.  What followed was the most ridiculous seven minutes of his existence, as well as the most distracting.  Rose’s coital sounds were distressingly realistic, and he was half hard by the time she faked her orgasm, despite the circumstances.

She bit her lip and waited for another minute afterwards, then ran a discerning eye over him and reached up to ruffle his hair, then hers.  She took off her coat and unzipped the sweatshirt beneath it a few inches, and it was impossible not to watch as she made an effort to plump up her breasts and maximize her cleavage.

She found him staring when she grabbed her coat again and turned back to him.  “What?”

“You’re...remarkably good at that,” he said slowly, and she flashed a grin at him.

“Yeah, well, dating Mickey, I got pretty good at faking it,” she said with an eyeroll.

“That’s tragic,” he told her, and she winked at him as she took his hand and tugged him toward the door again.

When she opened the door, though, Jonathan was surprised to find, rather than Gail Winters, Chris standing in the hall.  His hands were buried in his pockets, and he narrowed his eyes as they emerged.  Jonathan glanced around quickly, but the board member was nowhere to be seen.

“Gail was here,” Jonathan said quickly.

“I saw her,” Chris said, nodding and glancing down the hall.  “Well, I saw her leave.  Not hard to tell why she looked like she’d swallowed a nettle, once I was in earshot.”

“It was fake,” Rose blurted out, and Jonathan nodded in vigorous agreement.  “She was listening, so we thought we’d...let her listen to something interesting.”

“Naturally,” Chris drawled, then shook his head with a snort.  “I’ll say this, Miss Tyler, if that’s what you sound like when you’re faking it, you must be quite a lot fun when it's real.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Rose said, her voice pitched low and flirty before she turned to Jonathan.  “You ready for lunch?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, more than happy to walk away from Chris and his smirk.  Even if he did happen to agree with his friend...and was more than a little curious how accurate those tempting sounds actually were.

oOoOo

Jonathan cursed when he heard his phone start ringing obnoxiously early on his day off.  It wasn’t until he saw Rose’s name on the caller ID that he decided not to throw it against a wall, instead running a hand over his face as he answered.

“Oh god, I woke you didn’t I?”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, his voice gravelly from sleep.  “What is it?  Everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said quickly.  “Um.  I just...I sort of...need a boyfriend appearance today.”

He sighed, levering himself up into a sitting position.  She hadn’t actually made a lot of demands on his time in the past four months, apart from one or two family things and a few of Lucie’s “party because it’s Tuesday” type events.  If anything, he was worse, with the way he texted her to meet him for lunch if Gail was about in the hospital, as well as dragging her to a fundraising banquet that he probably could have attended without her, but would probably have been bored to tears if he had.  It wouldn’t really be fair to deny her just because it was his day off.

“When?” he asked finally, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand.

“A...couple of hours?”

“Sure,” he agreed with a yawn.  “Am I picking you up?”

“That’d be great yeah.”

It only took a second, after she climbed into his car, to see that something was off.  Her face was pale and drawn, her red-rimmed eyes restless, and knuckles were white as she clutched at a bunch of flowers.  She insisted she was fine when he asked, though, and sat stiffly in the passenger seat and gave him directions as he drove.  It wasn’t until she told him to park and he looked across the street that he got an inkling of how wrong the situation was.

“Rose,” he said, looking back at her, “that’s a cemetery.”

“Um, yeah,” she said, bringing a hand up to nibble on her nail.

“Can I ask why?” he asked when she didn’t say anything else.

She watched him silently for a moment, her eyes huge, then she let out a breath in a whoosh.  “It’s my dad’s birthday, and I usually come alone, cause it’s not the sort of thing you really ask people to do, come with you to stare at a headstone, but I just thought maybe since I still had some appearances allowed this month, maybe this could count and you could...c-come with me and maybe I...um...didn’t have to...be alone.”  He glanced back at the cemetery gates, trying to imagine how hard it was for her to walk through them alone every year, but turned back to face her when she started talking again.  “You don’t have to, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked--”

“It’s fine,” he said, cutting her off and reaching for his seatbelt.  “Come on.”

“Really?” she asked, staring at him.

“Of course,” he replied, opening the door.  “Coming?”

She nodded quickly, scrambling out of the car, and he took her hand as they crossed the street to the cemetery.  She led him to her dad’s stone, and he let go of her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her shoulders when she straightened from setting the flowers on his grave.  She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, glancing up at him self-consciously.

“Sorry,” she said.  “It’s probably stupid.  I mean he died when I was six months old, I don’t even remember him.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, squeezing her shoulders gently.  “Far from it.  He was still your father, Rose.  How did he die?”

“Hit and run,” she said, staring at the headstone.  “Never found out who.  No one was there.  Still,” she went on, wiping under eyes again and checking her fingers for makeup, “can’t miss what you never had, right?”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jonathan said, burying his free hand in his pocket and frowning thoughtfully.  “I know that’s the standard, but I think it’s entirely possible to miss something you haven’t had.  Or, if not, at least the potential of what it could have been.  But more to the point, whatever you feel, however you deal with it, it’s not stupid.  You’ll feel however you feel, and deal with it however feels right.  Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Kay,” she said, her voice thick.  She sniffed again, then leaned her head on his shoulder.  He pressed a kiss to her hair, then rested his cheek against her head, willing to stand with her as long as she needed.

When she did finally raise her head, he took her hand again as they made their way out of the cemetery.  He was quiet as they got back to the car, but made her stop before she opened the passenger door with a hand on her arm.

“This doesn’t count,” he told her.  “As one of the...boyfriend appearances, I mean.  I would have done this regardless.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Rose said, shaking her head.

“Rose, nevermind the agreements and prescribed appearances and whatever else,” he said, slouching down a little to look in her eyes as he brought his hands up her arms.  “You’re my friend, and I care about you.  And I don’t like the idea of my friend being alone in a situation so difficult.  Alright?”

“Okay,” she said, giving him a watery smile.

He brought one hand up to her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, then leaned forward to kiss her mouth gently.  He rested his forehead on hers when he broke away, and she took a shaky, calming breath.

“Now,” he said, pulling away, “I don’t know about you, but I really need ice cream.  How about you?”

“Hot fudge sundae,” Rose said, and he sucked in a breath before humming uncertainly.  He winked when he saw her lips twitching.

“Deal,” he said, pressing another quick kiss to her lips and opening his passenger door for her.

oOoOo

“So, how’s himself?” Jackie asked, nodding at a photo on Rose’s fridge.  Lucie had taken it last week when they’d gone out with Chris and Jonathan to see a match at the pub.  Jonathan had an arm around her neck, pulling her close to kiss her cheek while she stuck her tongue out at Lucie and her camera.  There was another one next to it of Jonathan and Chris doing a chest bump after a goal while Lucie rolled her eyes above her beer, and there was another one floating around somewhere that Lucie had gotten the bartender to take of the four of them.  Rose smiled fondly at the photos--it had been a great night.

“He’s fine,” Rose said, returning to the moment.  “You know, busy, but it’s okay.”

“But is he good to you, sweetheart?” she asked, taking Rose’s hand.

“Yeah, he’s great,” Rose assured her mother, covering Jackie’s hand with her free one.  “He...um, he went with me last month to the cemetery for Dad’s birthday.  And then he took me out for sundaes,” she added with a grin.

A knock at the door interrupted whatever else Jackie was going to say, and Rose frowned at the door before getting up to check the peephole.  She was even more confused when she saw Jonathan on the other side of the door, his coat thrown on over his scrubs and his hand running through his hair restlessly.  She backed up, opening the door quickly, and he breathed her name before pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her neck.

“Hey,” she said softly, bringing a hand up to comb through his hair soothingly.  “Hey, you alright?  Jonathan, what happened?”

He lifted his head, and was stunned at how _tired_ he looked, like the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders.  He opened his mouth, but stopped when he looked past her.  Rose glanced behind her and saw Jackie standing close by, watching them curiously.

“Mrs. Tyler, good to see you again,” Jonathan said, his voice a little strangled.  “I’m sorry, I should have called--”

“It’s fine,” Rose cut in quickly, moving her hand to his cheek.  “What happened?”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head a little, already pulling away.  She took his hand and pulled him through the flat to her bedroom, looking at him expectantly when she closed the door behind them.  She didn’t think it was possible, but he looked even worse than he had at the door.

“Jonathan?”

“I...lost a patient,” he told her, looking down at the floor. “I lost Adric.”

“Oh god.”  Rose’s hands flew to her mouth in horror, her entire mind locking up as she tried to think of something to say.

She’d met Adric two weeks ago.  He’d been in and out of the hospital for years with a congenital heart problem, but at fifteen, he was cheerful and open.  He said he wanted to be a doctor himself one day, and Jonathan had smiled and said he had no doubt that Adric would be telling him what to do in twenty years.  A few days ago, he’d been back in the hospital, and taking a turn for the worse.  Jonathan had been stressed and upset, fighting against time and knowing that the only thing that was going to save Adric was a new heart.

“But I thought you said yesterday--”

“It wasn’t fast enough,” Jonathan told her, his voice hollow.  “He crashed before the heart arrived, and I...I couldn’t bring him back.  I tried everything, but--”

He stopped, looking back up at her with haunted eyes.  He wasn’t holding the weight of the world, she realized.  He’d just come back from war, and he’d lost.  Rose stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, raising one hand to his head when his arms slid around her waist and he folded into her.

“I couldn’t save him, Rose,” he choked out, and her heart broke for him.

“Shh, it’s not your fault,” she murmured.  “You did everything you could.”

“If I’d been able to hold out another _hour_ , Rose--”

“It’s _not_ your _fault_ ,” she insisted, pulling back and lifting his head to look at him.  “Adric’s been sick most of his life, and you’ve done _so much_ for him--”

“Not enough,” he cut in, shaking his head, but Rose caught his head between her hands.

“You said you tried everything,” she reminded him, and he swallowed hard.  “You’re not god, Jonathan.  Just a very skilled surgeon that sometimes plays it.  There’s only so much you can do.”

His eyes were bright and red, and she leaned up to kiss his him briefly.

“Stay here,” she said when she pulled back.  “I’ll be right back.”

She held his gaze until he nodded a little, then let him go and hurried out of the room.  She found her mum in the kitchen, pacing.

“Mum, listen, you’ve got to go,” Rose said, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water.  “I’m really sorry, but--”

“That how it goes then?” Jackie asked archly.  “He shows up and you’ve just got to drop everything for him?”

“No, Mum,” Rose sighed, putting the kettle on.  “He’s just...he’s had a really bad day, alright?  I’ll call you later.”

Jackie grumbled for another moment, but finally left as Rose finished making the tea.  Jonathan had taken off his jacket and was sitting on Rose’s bed when she made it back to her room, staring at his hands.  He looked up when she cleared her throat, and took the cup of tea she held out with a grateful look.

“I thought you were on until morning,” she said, sitting next to him as he sipped at the steaming liquid.

“Alistair thought it would be good for me to leave early,” he explained.

“When did he say that?”

“Um, around the time I started knocking over surgical trays, I think,” he replied with a wince.  “Apparently, I worried some of the surgical staff.”

“I’m so sorry, Jonathan,” she murmured, running a hand over his arm.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.  “I shouldn’t have just shown up like this.  It’s just--”

“What?”

“You’re the only person I wanted to see,” he explained, his voice hoarse, and she skimmed her hand down his arm to take his hand.

“It’s fine,” she said.  “It’s like you said before, we’re friends now, apart from all the fake stuff.  You can come by anytime you need to.  _Especially_ days like this.”

“Thanks.”

He squeezed her hand gently, taking a deep breath.  By the time he finished his tea, he looked a little more like himself, and Rose convinced him to go grab the extra clothes she knew he kept in his car so he’d be more comfortable.  She put on a comedy she had found out a few weeks ago that he loved while he changed, and had it cued up and pizza on the way by the time he dropped on the sofa.

They shifted on the sofa during the movie, so that Jonathan was laying back against the arm of the sofa with Rose cuddled against his chest.  She looked up when the ending credits started rolling, and smiled gently when she found him fast asleep, his arm still tight around her.  She had a brief thought that this was probably against the rules somehow, but then she yawned and decided she didn’t much care, cuddling back into him instead.

oOoOo

"So, what're you doing next month?"

They were sitting in what had become their favorite curry place, on one of their prescribed date nights...although that had become more of a formality than anything. They tended to get together most nights and weekends he was actually off now, if only to bum around one of their flats, especially in the weeks following Adric’s death.  That was just because they enjoyed hanging out together, though; they still tried to actually get out for the dates so they had something to mention if their "relationship" came up.

Jonathan stared at her blankly with his fork halfway to his mouth after the question, though, and Rose realized she probably needed to give him more context.

"Round about the twenty fifth," she said.  "Only, remember my cousin Sarah."

"Oh, right, the engaged one," he recalled with a nod.  "That was our first date.  Well, the first one that wasn't a lie."

"Right, well, thing about being engaged is that eventually, people get married."

"And the wedding is round about the twenty fifth," he guessed, finally taking his bite of curry when she nodded.  “Certainly within the parameters of our agreement.  Sure, I’ll figure out a way to have it off.”

“Um...well, it’s a bit more than that, actually,” Rose said slowly.  “Thing is, she’s getting married in the country...some estate or something.  It’s a few hours out.  And I have to be there a day or two early, rehearsal or whatever.  Um.”

Jonathan studied her a moment, then set down his fork and leaned back.  “What exactly are you asking of me, Miss Tyler?”

“Two nights?” she asked hesitantly.  He narrowed his eyes a little, and she swallowed.  “Uh, leave early Friday, come back Sunday afternoon?”

“I don’t suppose your mother is the type that refuses to accept that you’re not sleeping with your significant other?” he asked.  Rose blinked--she hadn’t thought about that.  But probably not, now that she thought about it...which meant her mum and everyone else would be expecting them to share a room, especially with so many guests in attendance.  He sighed when she bit her lip.  “No, I thought not.”

“You know what, never mind,” she said quickly.  “It’s fine, I’ll just say you had to work--”

“And let your mother assume that I can’t make any time for you?” he asked, frowning deeply.  “Absolutely not.  It’ll just take a little more juggling to get the time off.”

Rose stared at him, stunned.  “You’ll come?  Really?”

“Yes, Rose,” he said, lips twitching, then laughed when she let out a happy squeal.  She darted over to his side of the booth and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek with a loud smacking sound.

“Best fake boyfriend ever,” she said with a grin.

“I do try,” he said, smiling back at her.  “And really, two nights sharing a room?  There are certainly worse things.”

“Well, and three days straight of being a couple,” she added pulling back.  “Twenty-four hours a day.”

Jonathan snorted dismissively, draping his arm along the booth behind her.  “We’ve been doing this, what six months?  We’ve got it down, and no one’s ever doubted us.  What could possibly go wrong?”


End file.
